


Two Glasses

by starryeyedboxes



Category: Septiplier - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 06:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryeyedboxes/pseuds/starryeyedboxes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does one do when their bed is empty now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Glasses

he young Irishman’s blue eyes burned as he wiped his eyes with his jacket sleeve. He rolled over in bed, facing the empty space in front of him, surprised that a familiar body was not there. He sniffled and ran his palm over the messy comforter. Sighing for the hundredth time that night, the man known popularly as Jack grabbed the pillow next to him and clung it close to his body. The night was heavy once more. He could hear the clock ticking on the wall, a clicking that unsurprisingly made the night feel even longer. The young YouTuber could feel his throat burning from screaming at his walls for hours. It was already half past four in the morning and he had not slept a wink.

A chill ran up Jack’s spine and he felt another tear fall.

“Mark?” He weakly called out. “Babe…?”

There was no response. The only thing that seemed to answer the Irishman was his quiet weeping echoing off the walls. Rolling over and slamming his face into a different pillow, he continued screaming. He screamed until his throat felt like it was going to cave in and until his lungs were completely depraved of air. Jack’s head spun as he rolled over once again and reached out for the left side of the bed. He was met with empty air.

“Mark!” Jack screeched to the best of his abilities. The volume that it should have had was absent, however. It merely sounded like a slight whisper. “ _Why?!_ Why did you have to leave?!”

Tears clouding his vision, he rolled over onto the empty side and clutched the blankets in the strongest grasp he could manage and sobbed into the mattress. The pain never lessened. It never got better. How could people tell him that it would get better with time yet he continued  _every night_  like this? Sometimes he would go over 24 hours without any sleep. How was this better?

With a pounding headache, Jack turned his head so he could breathe in some of the night’s fresh air. Instead, he caught a strong scent of his lover’s cologne that still managed to linger on the sheets. Wailing once more, the Irishman hastily got off the bed and fled into the bathroom. Refusing to turn on the lights knowing that his reflection in the mirror would not have been a pretty one, he washed his face in the dark. This had to stop. It just  _had_  to. Night after night the YouTuber would scream at the walls at odd hours of the night and toss around until his body succumbed into the darkness for some needed rest or until the sun came up and his neighbors would wake. It seemed like as each day passed, his heart became heavier.

Trudging out of the bathroom, he forced himself downstairs. Grabbing a bottle of wine out of the cabinet, he unknowingly grabbed two wine glasses and sat down at the dining room table. He needed something to help him sleep. Something. _Anything._

After Jack poured himself a glass of the precious red wine that he and Mark had picked out to save for their tenth anniversary celebration years and years down the line, he reached over and began pouring some into the second glass. When the Irishman realized that he had actually taken out two glasses and even poured some into it, he froze. He watched as the wine flowed over the rim and onto the table, spreading like wildfire. Jack could not help but gaze intently as the red substance filled the entire tabletop before streaming down like a waterfall onto the tiles.

“Fuckin’  _hell!_ ” he screamed, this time his volume returning despite the strain it had faced all night.

Streaks of tears began falling again, dripping onto his jacket. Swiping his hand across the table, he purposefully knocked the second glass violently onto the ground before picking up his own and harshly throwing it against the wall. Glass shards flew across the room but the man was not done yet. Grabbing the almost empty bottle of wine he was just about to drink, he held the neck tightly and smashed it against the table before tossing the remains against the floor to shatter with the rest of the glass. He had drunk a glass of it every few night since his lover had died.

Jack screamed out for his companion as he slumped to floor.

“Mark,” he spoke softly after a few moments. “I miss you so fucking much that it hurts.” A sob found a way out of his mouth. “I don’t understand. Ye fuckin’ said you would _always_ be here…” Rolling over so he could lie down, he felt the wine soak into his jacket as well as the glass shards poking him uncomfortably. But he did not have the energy to move anymore.

“I-I thought I saw you last night,” the blue-eyed boy admitted. His empty gaze fell upon the weird crack in the ceiling that was there when the duo first rented out the small house. “Yesterday, I finally hit 8 million subscribers. I wish that you were here… It’s so easy to put up a front for all of the fans… It’s not so easy by myself.”

Jack wanted to cry but he was not surprised when the tears did not flow. He must have reached his limit for the night.

He continued to talk into the darkness about his day. How he went to grocery store yesterday and made it home before anyone saw the puffy eyes behind the sunglasses. He said how he went to the gym to try to exercise away his pain but ended up showering in the locker room for two hours. He even mentioned how he went to their favorite movie theater in town and watched a movie by himself, snacking on his beloved’s favorite treat just to feel him close again.

“I love you so much, Mark,” the Irishman weeped. “I’m taking baby steps. That’s good, right?”

Unsurprisingly, the drips of wine falling from the table was the only thing to answer his pained rambling. “I wanted so badly to celebrate the 8 million milestone with you. I know that you would have done something special for me. You always did.” A few moments of silence passed. “Your fans so badly miss you, too. You know that? You touched so many of their lives.”

Jack could not deny the fact that his life was definitely touched by the heart-of-gold fellow. They met for the first time about five years ago at an event called PAX. Ever since then, the two spent every moment possible talking and playing games. It was not long before the Irishman had to fly out here to Los Angeles. They ended up together in no time. Their chemistry was undeniable and all of their friends knew it.

“Buddy, _if you’re out there_ , please know that you left a great legacy.” Jack began shivering from his damp jacket in the cold air. He forgot that he left the air conditioning on last night. “I hope to carry it on. Please know that I will do my damn hardest to make sure you live on. You’re still here. I know you are.”

Expecting a peculiar sensation or a sign that Mark had in fact been listening, the blue-eyed man waited. And waited. Another twenty minutes passed before he pulled himself up off of the floor and peeled off his soaked jacket and shirt. He listened as the clinking of falling glass reverberated off the empty walls. No “sign” had been given. The only thing that happened was the ticking of the clock he could hear all the way from downstairs even though it was up in his room. Tossing his ruined clothes onto the wine-covered table, he navigated back up the stairs and fell back into bed. Breathing in deeply, he knew he was ready to pass out. He so desperately needed sleep.

 

Jack rolled over from his side of the bed and extended his arm out to wrap around the body that usually occupied that space. But instead, his hand fell onto the cold covers once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! I originally posted this on my tumblr but then I finally got my confirmation to join this website! So here it is!  
> This was actually sort of painful to write. It’s heavily based off of LIGHTS’s song Muscle Memory (my favorite song by her… ever). I knew I wanted to write something tragic and this song came to mind right off the bat.


End file.
